


To Infinity (War) And Beyond

by CityofAangels



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, College, Fluff, M/M, They meet when they're kids, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 23:57:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15673872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityofAangels/pseuds/CityofAangels
Summary: The first time they meet, Tony's five. They build a gigantic sandcastle, and have the best time ever.They don't come from the same kind of family. Bucky's poor, but his parents love him. Tony's rich, but his parents... are complicated.Fate would say they shouldn't meet again, but fate plays a weird role in their lives.





	To Infinity (War) And Beyond

**Author's Note:**

> Heyha!
> 
> I had this idea at WORK. I've been writing the first chapters of this fic in my head for a WEEK.  
> Finally I had some time to actually write the first chapter, woohoo!
> 
> This will be kind of a gigantic story.  
> It's an AU, because Tony and Bucky live at the same time, but it'll still follow the lines of the Marvel Movies. So, yes, there will be angst in the future, because Tony's and Bucky's lives are basically just angst and anxiety and sadness.  
> I hope you'll like it! I'm weirdly nervous about it, because I feel like this could be really cool and I reaaaally don't want to fuck it up.
> 
> I still don't have a beta reader, because my writing schedule is totally non-existent, so I sincerely apologize for any mistake. I'm pretty sure there's a problem with the verb tenses at first, sorry about that.
> 
> Enjoy :)

The first time they met, Tony was five.  
It was one of those rare and cherished days, when he got to step out of his protected environment for a few hours and actually go out in the real world. This time, luck was with him: he was not with his mom, who didn't really enjoy playing with him, nor with his dad, who took him out only to show him to his friends and brag about what a smart son he has. No, this time, Jarvis was with him. They were wearing their usual disguise: black glasses, hoodies and a baseball cap, Tony's slightly too big for him, but he loved it – there was Mickey on it, and if he could have worn it at night, he would have.  
Central Park was only a few steps away, but Tony'd only gone there a couple of times. It was too dangerous, his parents said, and the look in their eyes made him believe them. He could get kidnapped, because there were lots of people who didn't like his father, Jarvis has explained. What did kidnapping mean? Well, it's when some bad guys take you away from your family and keep you with them until your father accepts to pay them money.  
Would he pay them? Tony had asked.  
He hadn't had any answer to this question. He hasn't asked again.

That's not what's on his mind right now, though. Kidnapping and bad guys are not important, because right now, they're walking to a playground, with an ice cream in their hands, and Jarvis is talking with him. He's not talking the way his parents do – even if he's young, Tony notices the way his parents answer, with a lack of interest painfully obvious, no matter what he talks about. No, right now, Jarvis is listening to him attentively, and answering every little question he has about the people they meet, the trees they see, like Tony is everything important in his world.  
He's not used to feeling this way.  
They walk through the park, until they get to the playground Tony loves so much. It's big, and shadowed by big oaks all around; there's the traditional swings and slides but, more than anything, there's a huge sandbox.

Tony might only be five, but building sandcastles is already serious business to him. He's taken with him a dozen buckets from all sizes and widths, little shovels and rakes. He was already picturing the castle he was going to build as they entered the playground and walked to a bench where Jarvis sat down.

"You know the rules," he said, and Tony nodded; even if they didn't go out very often, he had a good memory. "If an adult you don't know talks to you, you come back here. And you don't leave the playground. Don't take off your sunglasses or your cap, okay?"  
"I won't, I promise. It's not the first time we come here, remember?"

Jarvis smiled and pinched Tony's nose between his fingers, gently, making him giggle.

"All right young man. Go have some fun, then. And if you're hungry or thirsty, I have water and snacks right here."

He barely had time to finish talking before Tony was scrambling away, running to the sandbox, his buckets hooked around his arms and rattling with each step he took. Jarvis couldn't help his smile, and, no matter how he tried, there was no shutting up the little voice in his head that whispered that Tony deserved more moments like this. But there was close to nothing he could do about it; he'd had to fight hard just for this one simple day already.  
Far from this kind of preoccupations, Tony was racing to the sandbox, humming a little song from a commercial he'd seen the other day when he'd managed to sneak into the living room for a few minutes. He stopped in his tracks immediately when he saw another boy in the sandbox; it was so sudden his sneakers left a trail in the grass.  
Tony... did not do great with other children. He tried, there was no denying it, he did his best, but more often than not, kids would see him as weird and arrogant – which he was far from being. It simply was hard for him figuring out what other kids wanted him to be like. All five years of his life, he'd lived in a big mansion, cared for by domestics, and only meeting other children when friends of his parents' would visit. And these children were not like the children you would meet in the playground. No, the children he saw at home were always extremely polite and well-educated; most of them could speak three languages already; and most of the time, their clothes were not appropriate for a good playtime in the sandbox. The result was that Tony had barely any experience with what rude people would maybe call ''normal'' children. So when he met them, it invariably ended in some kind of disaster.

Any other day, he might have given up and gone back to Jarvis, or to play on the swings, maybe; but he'd been thinking about sandcastles for a week, and he desperately wanted to know what the one he'd planned on building would look like. So he took a deep breath, straightened his back like Mom had taught him to, and took little steps until he entered the sandbox, taking care to stay far from the other boy.  
The boy in question actually looked like he hadn't even noticed Tony was there. He was looking at his bucket – a small, faded thing broken at the top – and at the pile of sand he'd already built, his tongue sticking out in deep focus. It looked like he was planning to built a tall castle, but Tony could already see that it wouldn't work: the foundations he'd built were too weak.  
_Don't mind him_ , he told himself, and turned to his own tools, _focus on what you're doing_.  
A good advice, for sure, but one that was definitely difficult to follow when the sighs and noises of frustration coming from the other boy increased with time. It reached his peak once Tony distinctly heard the sand crumble and everything collapse in a little puff of dust.

''No, I was almost there!'' the boy cried, and Tony turned to see him standing up over the previously almost done castle, that now looked like a big pile of sand. ''It's unfair!''

 _Don't_ , said the wise voice in Tony's head.

''It's because of the foundations,'' said his actual, not wise voice, and the boy turned to look at him, his hands crossed over his chest.

He was tall, and probably older than Tony; taller, that was for sure, but that didn't mean a lot, seeing how Tony was on the short side. His face was scowling impressively, and he kicked at the pile of sand so everyone would know he was _angry_.

''The founda-what?''  
''Foundations,'' Tony repeated patiently, and crawled to where the boy was standing, grabbing a bucket and two shovels. ''Look, here. If you wanna have a really _big_ castle, you need to make the bottom of it _really_ strong.''  
''Oh. Oh, because if I don't, the towers are gonna be too heavy, that it?''

Tony nodded and smiled, a little, shy thing.

''Yes! It's like in the circus, when people make a tower. If the people at the bottom are not strong, then _boom_ , everyone falls down.''

This time, it was the other boy's turn to grin, anger forgotten for now. He sat down heavily, and tilted his head, looking at the pile of sand critically.

''I'm not sure I know how to do it. D'you…''  
''I can help!'' Tony exclaimed happily, and two seconds later he was back with his full collection of buckets, that the other boy looked at with wide eyes.  
''Are all of those _yours_?''  
''Yes,'' he shrugged, ''I really like building castles, and Jarvis says you gotta have the right epuiq– e _quip_ ment, if you want them to be really good.''  
''Uh, okay. That's cool. I only have this one bucket, though, and it's broken.''

He grimaced, but then shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, _no big deal, right_? Solemnly, Tony grabbed one of the buckets he liked most and held it for the other boy.

''Here. This is a _really_ good bucket, it makes the best castles. You can take it, but give it back when you leave, okay?''

Taking it very cautiously, the boy nodded and smiled.

''Promise I'll give it back. Now, show me, how can we do the _biggest_ castle?''  
''First, we have to make a really strong foundation. See,'' he said, tracing a circle in the sand with his shovel, ''inside here we put sand, so it can hold all the towers.''

Obeying immediately, the other boy got up and took a few steps back to get some sand in his brand new bucket, but he froze after a second, under Tony's questioning gaze.

''I dunno your _name_!'' he exclaimed. ''If we build castles together, we have to know our _names_!''  
''Oh, right! I'm Anthony, but people call me Tony, except for my dad.''  
''That's fun, because no one calls me by my real name, too. I'm James, but mom only calls me James when she wants me to do something for her. Everyone calls me Bucky.''

Now that they were introduced to each other, they shook hands to make it official, and grinned at each other – this close, Tony could see that Bucky was missing one of his front teeth. He wasn't lucky enough to have lost one of _his_ teeth, but he could feel one of them moving already. Maybe he could ask Bucky how it felt when they fell; if it was painful.

***

When Jarvis came closer to the sandbox, a couple of hours later, to see who this other boy was and what exactly was happening in there, what he saw surprised him, to say the least.  
There were a lot of kids, all around the playground, who had stopped what they were doing and were currently elbowing each other with impressed whispers. Even a couple of parents were raising a surprised eyebrow at the impressive sand creation.  
The two young architects were standing proudly next to their castle, looking down at it as if they were about to put it on the market and trying to decide how much it was worth. Jarvis wasn't a pro about sandcastles and their worth, but one thing was for sure: this one was _amazing_. It was almost taller than Tony, and took almost the whole width of the sandbox; there were towers upon towers, and even a river surrounding the whole thing.

''Impressive,'' he said as he crouched down, taking care to stay out of the box so as not to risk destroying everything. ''You did that all by yourself?''

Tony turned to him with a wide grin, and pointed to the other boy.

''No, Jarvis, Bucky helped! He's really strong, so he could take more sand than me, and it was quicker this way. Look at our castle! We even made a dungeon for the bad guys.''

The dungeon in question was represented by a few sticks that – at least that's what Jarvis thought – stood for the bars of a cell. He whistled between his teeth and put an affectionate hand on Tony's shoulders, feeling the boy almost shake with excitement.

''Bucky, is it?'' he asked as he turned to the older boy.  
''Yes, sir! Oh, well, my real name is James, but no one calls me like that, really.''  
''It's like with me, Jarvis,'' Tony whispered – loudly, and Jarvis smiled. ''We both don't use our real names.''  
''I can see that. It's very nice to meet you, Bucky. Are you there with your parents?''  
''He is,'' came a woman's voice from behind them, and Jarvis turned on his heels to see a young woman approaching, before she crouched next to him, too. ''Well, he's with me, at least. I'm Winifred, it's nice to meet–''

Her words stopped as she turned to properly look at him and Tony, and the recognition was obvious in the way she tensed up, suddenly, and seemed at a loss of what to say.

''Mom?'' Bucky prompted, seemingly a bit worried about her.  
''Hm?'' she seemed to shake herself out of her brief moment of shock, and smiled, although a bit tensely. ''Sorry. As I was saying, it's nice to meet you both. I take it you're the one responsible for the plans of this wonderful castle?''

Tony nodded, standing up all proud and tall – Jarvis knew it wasn't often he heard praise from someone else than him. The tips of his ears were turning pink slowly, and Jarvis just wanted to commit this to memory, how cute Tony was being, far from his usual shyness.

''I helped, but Bucky did most of the hardest work!''  
''I wish we could live in a place like this,'' Bucky said, looking at the castle with forlorn eyes.  
''You could come visit me, maybe? We live in a mansion – it's not a castle, but it's _really_ big, and we have lots and lots of rooms.''

The adults coughed a bit awkwardly, looking at each other with a grimace of apology; at the same time, Bucky's only worry about it all was if there were, by any chance, a dungeon in Tony's mansion.

''I don't think so,'' Tony said, his brow furrowed, ''but maybe we have one somewhere I haven't seen. Maybe we have a secret room, right, Jarvis?''  
''If we do, then I still haven't been able to find it.''  
''But if you do, you'll tell me, right?''  
''Of course I will. You'll be the first one to know if I discover a dungeon behind your father's library.''

That launched another discussion between the two kids, about who exactly Tony's dad could have put in a dungeon. Jarvis could have told them about a hundred different people Howard Stark would have gladly put behind bars and/or tortured for days, but it wasn't the best place nor the best time to teach them about business adversity, so he simply stayed quiet and let them picture the _baddest bad guy_ there could be out there.

''They seemed to get along really well, don't they?'' Bucky's mother commented. ''I don't want to impose or anything, but do you think Tony would enjoy eating an ice cream with the both of us – and you, of course?''  
''He would love that. Unfortunately, I promised his parents we would be back before the end of the afternoon, and we should better be going in a couple of minutes.''  
''Oh, well, that's too bad. Maybe another time, though?''  
''Maybe, yes,'' Jarvis said with a smile – knowing perfectly well that the next time Tony would be authorized to go to the park, both Bucky and his mother would have forgotten about meeting them.

He let the two boys talk for a short while longer, feeling a pang in his heart about having to separate them so soon. It was rare for Tony to get along so well and so quick with someone his own age. He was more quiet, usually, spent more time with Jarvis than with children visiting, and more than once, he'd stayed by Jarvis' side on one of their days out rather than risking meeting other kids. It was heartwarming to see him like this, carefree as all children should be, and imagining wild stories as fast as he breathed, and deep inside, Jarvis longed to offer him more of this, knowing despite it that it wasn't possible. Tony would like the kind of childhood people from the outside called _privileged_. And they weren't wrong, of course; Tony would probably never suffer from hunger, or learn what it was to sleep outside, cold and scared. But he would never know what it was like to spend a day running in the forest, getting all dirty and not caring about it, climbing trees without thinking about the risks, or playing in the sandbox with a newly made friend, knowing that he would see him again very soon. He would know the best schools, maybe, and the best tutors money could buy, but that would take him far from recesses playing basketball with an old and dirty tennis ball, and from parents struggling to explain a math problem to their child.

''We should go, Tony,'' he finally said, softly, after a few minutes more. ''You know your parents will be waiting for you to have dinner with them.''  
''But, Jarvis! Can't we stay a little bit longer? Or maybe Bucky could come with us and have dinner, too? Don't you think that would be great?''  
''You know we can't do that, Tony. I'm sorry, but you have to say goodbye to Bucky and his mother, okay?''

Tony's puppy eyes were lethal – even more so when Jarvis already wanted to give in – but he shook his head resolutely and stood back up, dusting the sand from his pants and shaking Winifred's hand.

''It was nice meeting you and your son,'' he smiled, ''I hope we'll get to see you again around here.''  
''We come here pretty often, so if you see us, just stop and say hi. Bucky, we should go, too.''

The two boys looked at each other for a second, unsure of how to say goodbye, and then they leaned in at the same time for a brief hug, and shook hands one last time before Jarvis gently pushed Tony out of the playground.  
The walk back to the mansion was gloomy at first, Tony refusing to talk to Jarvis. After a few minutes, though, he let go of his frustration and started narrating each step of the castle-building, and how Bucky had said losing a teeth _didn't_ really hurt, and how he was already two years older than Tony, and lived in Brooklyn – can you imagine Jarvis, it's really far!

He was so engrossed in his talk that it wasn't until they were back in the mansion that they noticed Tony's favorite Mickey cap was missing.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos? Comment(s)?


End file.
